


Chaos

by livsoulsecrets



Series: Loving you is a losing game [2]
Category: The Last Hours Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, F/M, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:01:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25493518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livsoulsecrets/pseuds/livsoulsecrets
Summary: "It was almost as if thinking of Matthew brought him to her when she needed him."Cordelia and Matthew continuing to find each other in the middle of chaos.
Relationships: Cordelia Carstairs/Matthew Fairchild
Series: Loving you is a losing game [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1846753
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	Chaos

**Author's Note:**

> This is the part two of a fic I wrote before, what happened in that story is referenced here, but it is nothing that would make you not understand this one shot. Hope you like this little thing I wrote!
> 
> those are the songs that inspired me if you are interested:   
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fNLvf0AIcRI  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h8Eff8BsfDA

It was a beautiful night. The London Institute was full of people Cordelia loved and admired; it was all so lovely she could almost pretend it wasn’t all so false. She was sitting by James’ side, facing Will and Tessa. Lucie was on her other side, followed by Alaistair. By Tessa’s side, sat Cordelia’s mom, delighted with the company of her daughter’s future in-laws.

She had barely touched her food, too disturbed by the lies she was telling to really enjoy the delicious dinner Bridget had put together. Instead, she chose to observe those surrounding her, not participating in their conversation.

Will was whispering something to Tessa, that covered her mouth, barely suppressing a laugh. It was definitely inappropriate because she slapped him in the arm shortly after that, rolling her eyes. She still seemed delighted by him, as usual. Being a witness to their little bubble of love was doing nothing to repress the shame Cordelia felt for lying to them, but she couldn’t help staring at them. It was like Tessa and Will were magnets, attracting all the looks whenever they were together, their bond so strong it touched anyone’s heart that was open enough to believe in love.

Despite everything, Cordelia still did.

— Cordelia? Cordelia! — Lucie’s voice startles Cordelia, pushing her thoughts to the back of her mind. — Are you feeling good? You seemed distant. — Her friend got close-up, speaking in a low voice, in order not to draw attention to them.

— I am fine, thank you. — She answers, but Lucie’s eyes stay on hers, her head tilting to the side, a gesture Cordelia knew very well as a signal of pure Herondale stubbornness. She had to act quick before Lucie grew too concerned. — I just need to use the bathroom, I will be just back. — Before her friend could say anything else, Cordelia got up, carefully avoiding facing anyone when she said: — Excuse me.

With that, she left the dinner room, without looking back. Once away from everyone else, she started walking, not knowing where she was going, just hoping it would clear her head enough to get her through the rest of the night without breaking down.

It was all too much: her mother’s bright smile, her pride written all over her face, heart full with happiness for her kid’s future; Will’s radiant spirit, his long speeches about the Carstairs and the Herondales being bound together for all the generations to come; Lucie’s playful smile that was supposed to comfort her, but only served as another remember that Cordelia was marrying a man that didn’t love her, that could never love her the way she wanted him to.

Cordelia stopped, realizing she had walked far enough to reach the Institute’s entry. With a sigh, she laid her head against the closest wall, taking a deep breath. The place was dark and Cordelia took the refuge of the shadows gratefully. She closed her eyes and searched her mind for anything that could give her solace from the hurtful thoughts crossing her mind. That is when Matthew’s words from weeks ago came back to her, his voice echoing in her ears.

_You are anything but a fraud, Cordelia. You are formidable. And brave. And willing to do whatever is necessary to be the hero you are destined to be. If that includes pretending for a year that you and James are in love, then, be it. Think of this as a step that must be taken to ensure nothing gets in the way of the history you are bound to make._

A small smile emerged on her face, the power of Matthew’s faith on her overcoming the guilt eating her alive for some precious moments. So many people spoke ill of Matthew Fairchild all the time, called him deviant and outrageous and broken, but, if only they could see what Cordelia saw when she looked at him, if only they could experience the side of him that was careful, dedicated and comforting, if only they knew the beacon of light he could be in midst of the chaos. Only then would they really know who he is.

She is brought back to reality by the sound of the door opening. Cordelia straightens her posture, finding it very strange that someone would pay the Institute a visit at that hour. The shape of a man comes up, fair hair and a long waistcoat. It takes her only a second to realize Matthew is standing in the doorway.

— Lucie? Lucie, is that you? — Matthew’s voice was hoarse, the words barely making it out. Cordelia blinked a few times, surprised to see the boy in the Institute so late at night. It was almost as if thinking of Matthew brought him to her when she needed him.

— No- It is me, Cordelia. — She spoke, stepping away from the shadows. — Is there a problem? I didn’t expect to see you here at this hour.

— Everything is fine. — Matthew says, closing the door behind him. — I just could not handle my empty house any longer. It was as if, the more I drank, the more alone I was. — Cordelia looks down at the mention of drinking, thoughts of her dad and his secret adding up to her inner turmoil. — That is my excuse, what is yours?

— The usual one. Just needed some time to breathe. — Cordelia answers, bringing her hands together in front of her body.

— I can relate to that. — Matthew smirks, but something looks off with the gesture, the smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. — I take you are here for dinner with the Herondales? — He takes a step forward, towards her, but his legs fail him, making Matthew reach for the wall to stand up. Cordelia moves quickly, reaching for his arm to steady him.

— You are not wrong about that, but are you sure everything is fine? — His eyes were glassy and his hair was wet with sweat. Standing so close to him, most of his weight was laying on her. Her stomach turned, remembering all the moments she had done the same thing for her father, the only difference being that she didn’t know then the cause of his problem was the same as Matthew’s.

— Yes, I am sure, Cordelia, there is no need to get worried. I will not ruin the dinner. I will just sneak into James’ room and sleep there. — Matthew brushes it off, trying to break away from her, but Cordelia maintains her hold of him. In this state, he doesn’t have the strength to resist when she pulls his arm over her shoulders.

— It is not the dinner I am concerned about. It is you. I will not leave you alone to wander through the Institute like this. — Cordelia started guiding him towards James’ bedroom, her hand in his waist to sustain him. She doesn’t think she was ever this close to a boy that wasn’t James or Alastair, but pushes the though away almost immediately.

— Are you sure you should be leading a gentleman to a bedroom at this hour of the night, Miss Carstairs?

— I am already ruined, Mister Fairchild, what else could be done to me? — He laughs, which makes him feel lighter against her.

— You never fail to surprise me. — Matthew announces when they reach James’ bedroom.

— I could say the same about you. — She answers. Cordelia walks him to his parabatai’s bed, sitting Matthew down. He takes off his boots and his waistcoat, that Cordelia carefully puts aside in the nearest chair. — Thank you. — He murmurs before laying down.

— You are welcome. — She answers, covering him with the blanket. — Sleep well, Matthew. — Cordelia moves to get up, but Matthew holds her hand, keeping her still.

— Stay with me until I fall asleep? Please, I do not wish to be alone again. — His voice is quiet, like he is ashamed of the words that come out, but cannot stop them from doing so. Cordelia’s heart breaks hearing the vulnerability in her friend’s voice.

— I will stay. — Cordelia complies.

She is concerned about how to explain her disappearance to everyone else in the dinner room and she certainly shouldn’t be alone with a boy in a bedroom, like Matthew said, especially when said boy was not her fiancé, but she is incapable of walking away and leaving Matthew alone when he seems so fragile and tormented.

— My hero. — He whispers, closing his eyes, his hand still holding hers. Cordelia does not comment on that, realizing she enjoys the feeling of his soft skin against hers, despite the inappropriate situation they are in. — Sorry for barging in and bringing chaos into your night.

— No need to apologize. — She lowers her voice, like she is telling him a secret. — Maybe I like the chaos you bring to me. — A smile forms on his lips, his features peaceful for the first time in the night while he drifts off to sleep. Cordelia wonders how long has it been since he properly slept, considering the state he was when he stumbled through the Institute’s door.

She stays by his side until his hold on her hand weakens, until his mouth is slightly open and his breath has slowed down. She stays even for a while after that. The sight of a vulnerable Matthew Fairchild curled up over himself warms her heart and is a welcome substitute to the mess that was overcoming her mind until a few minutes ago. Somehow, the vision calms her more than any of the people she was surrounded by before.

— Good night, Matthew. — Cordelia finally whispers, her fingers lightly touching Matthew’s hair, pushing it off his forehead. She gets up just after that.

Cordelia hopes he regains some peace in his sleep. After all, he had unknowingly helped her regain some of hers.


End file.
